Timeline

One day, as I was cleaning out an old desk, I came across a yellowed copy of Life magazine stuck to the bottom of a drawer. I don’t know if it was kept intentionally or not, but it was easy to see why this particular issue might have been put away as a keepsake. On the cover was a picture of outer space and a headline asking what was necessary to get man to the Moon. The date? 1965. The articles inside were no less intriguing with drawings of proposed space vehicles and a chronological commentary of what had already been tried to put America ahead in the space race, what had failed, how miserably and why, and what advances would have to be made in technology, information, and expertise before we could reach that elusive goal of leaving terra firma and setting foot on alien soil. Sitting in an office chair at the beginning of the twenty-first century, perusing the old magazine felt like time travel. Here they were, discussing something from my ancient past in future tense. I wanted to call out to those writers and the scientists they interviewed and tell them they would make it, that they would figure it out, that history would change when one man took a small step representing a giant leap for all of us. In H.A. Rey’s Curious George Gets A Medal, it’s 1957 and our monkey friend becomes the first living being in space. It probably seemed possible then.

http://www.amazon.com/Curious-George-Gets-Medal-Rey/dp/0395169739

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/H._A._Rey

Beach Baby

After a fancy-restaurant dinner on my seventeenth birthday, we decided on the spur of the moment to go to the beach. It was already dark and none of us was dressed in beachwear, but we went anyway on that gorgeous summer night and walked on the sand in our stockinged feet. It was great and a favorite memory. And one of the best things about living in Southern California--the beach is just a breath and a wild hair away. It becomes part of your world, your culture, even your blood. What a great way to grow up. But, unfortunately, not one I’ve shared with my kids. All of my children except Keilana were born in Northern California, and she was young enough when we relocated that she doesn’t have any memories of living below Santa Barbara (which, in my opinion, is the official dividing line between north and south). So, their visits to the oceanside have been few and far between. It almost broke my heart the first time five year-old Connor sputtered up from a wave yelling, “Someone put salt in here!” As if he had just discovered that. Which he had. And Scarlett’s first impression of the beach as a toddler last summer was a definitive “No, thank you!” She really hated the experience, was freaked out and scared. How can these be my kids? In Margret and H.A. Rey’s Curious George Goes to the Beach, our favorite monkey spends a day in the sand and surf. Heaven.

http://www.amazon.com/Curious-George-Goes-Beach-Rey/dp/0395978386

http://thereycenter.org/Welcome.html

Weather Report

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’m a So Cal girl, born and bred, so warm weather is important for my psyche. I love New York, no cliché, I really do, but I couldn’t live there in January. I think Chicago is one of the most vibrant cities I’ve ever been in, but one big storm and I’d be outta there. I imagine myself as one of those gaudy, giant-hat-wearing biddies on the beach someday. If I could live anywhere, it wouldn’t be a place where it snows--except maybe a place where it snows once in a hundred years and the news makes the front page of the newspaper. That would be acceptable. I know that those of us who love the sun are legion (Are there any songs about Minnesota girls? Are postage stamp-sized pieces of property a million dollars in Iowa?), but, to my surprise, we aren’t the only game in town. And this time of year always reminds me of that with people glorifying snow, traveling to snow, and lamenting the lack of snow. I still find the snow fixation a bit mystifying--no airport was ever closed for too much nice weather and no car ever slid on patches of sun--but there are diehards who find the benefits outweigh the negatives. Apparently, they’ve got company. In Margaret and H.A. Rey’s Curious George In The Snow, the monkey who’s game for anything goes ape for the white stuff. What does he know? He’s a monkey.

http://www.amazon.com/Curious-George-Snow-H-Rey/dp/039591907X

http://www.houghtonmifflinbooks.com/features/cgsite/history.shtml